Unglued. Yes, that's me. Sometimes. Those catty remarks, sullen silences, and downright over the top raging responses. Yeah, those are mine. Sometimes. It's hard to exactly pinpoint what brings them on, but I think I can say it all comes down to baggage. A boatload of baggage that I've been toting around for years. It's heavy, and overwhelming, and some days I wish I could just set it down but I would miss it in some twisted way. After all, this baggage justifies my bad behavior. When I look at myself in the mirror right after I've been unglued I can peer into my baggage and say, "well, if he would just change this or that, I would not have to respond in this way". Yuck.
The struggle with perfection, although I think we all have at least a little of that struggle, is not the setback that keeps me from moving forward. I can live with imperfect progress. The problem is, I am convinced that it's not my fault. After all, I've been loyal and faithful and I've gone waaaaay beyond what my friends would have ever gone to try to make things run smoothly. I can see very clearly that my husband has some issues that he refuses to acknowledge, let alone deal with, and if he would just get those things in order everything would be different here and then I wouldn't have to become, well, you know, unglued. Sheesh.
The blame game. It doesn't take place boldly or blatantly. It's a very subtle, well orchestrated conversation that the devil has with me almost daily. It's ugly, but in its own demented and sick way, it is comforting and it doesn't ask me to change a thing. Do you want to know the worst thing about it? I am fully aware of it and I still don't call it what it is and cast it out of my life. It's time to take this on.
"... let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles us and let us run with perseverance the race that is set out for us." Hebrews 12:1b
I'm ready. Let's do this.
God created the heavens and earth, all you see, all you don't see.
